


Foxes and Hounds

by baneofdurin



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Nude Modeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:23:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3155648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baneofdurin/pseuds/baneofdurin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever Dean expected when he signed up for a life drawing class, it sure wasn't this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. crescendo

**Author's Note:**

> woops i aidean'd

Dean remembers the stress of beginning the class all too well. "Life drawing," they called it, because Dean knows just as well as anyone, and maybe even better from personal experience, that artists are a bunch of pretentious assholes. His artist friend Jared had recommended he take one in one of their long distance peer critiques over Skype. Dean's painting specialty may be landscapes, but Jared made a living painting people's portraits and if Jared thought Dean's anatomy drawing needed work, Dean trusted his opinion. That didn't change the whole... nudity aspect of taking a class like that. Jared had assured him that it wasn't about drawing naked people- it was about studying the different shapes that made up the human body and how it moved. Dean wasn't convinced. Maybe he was a prude, but he didn't feel comfortable drawing strangers genitals in excruciating detail. When he'd told Jared this, his friend had laughed at him. "I don't know what the fuck kind of life drawing classes you have up there, but here it's completely natural. After the first five minutes you barely even notice they're naked, honest." 

So that was how Dean found himself outside the community center armed with the pencils and the giant-ass sketchpad Jared had recommended he buy. He'd been wracked with nerves, and he remembers his hands shaking as he pulled the door open. 

Afterwards, Dean had been forced to admit that Jared was right, something that seemed to bring the man an endless amount of pleasure. Once Dean had gotten into it, he'd focused almost entirely on the strokes of his pencil to recreate what was in front of him- just like a still life, and just as his friend had promised him. He had come out of it feeling very liberated indeed. 

Since then, Dean's attended the three to five o’clock classes at the community center every Saturday. He's actually begun to show some improvement and he'd be proud of that if maybe Jared would shut up about being the one who pushed him into doing it. Asshole. 

~*~  
Dean has been sitting at his easel waiting for the rest of the class to arrive for nearly ten minutes, and the entire time his instructor, Adam, has been tapping his pencil against his thigh and checking his phone incessantly. He also hasn't said a word, which is unusual for the normally chatty Brit. 

"Adam," Dean finally ventures, "is everything alright?"

Adam's head snaps up from where he's been glaring at the screen of his phone and gives Dean a weak smile. "Depends on your definition of 'alright.' The model I booked cancelled on us at the last minute this morning, something about the flu, and you know how hard it is to book someone with a weeks notice, much less six hours. So my roommate said he'd do it to make up for breaking my favorite mug and... well, he's obviously not shown up yet, has he."

Dean feels for the man, he really does. Adam likes to have total control of a situation and this is out of any of their hands. By now, the rest of the class has trailed in and are setting up and Adam is looking more and more green. 

He rises out of his chair and moves to address the class, most of whom are staring at him with rapt attention. 

"I really am sorry everyone, but as you can all see, we don't have a model today. If you want, I can set up a still life or- "

"I'm here!" 

The door has flown open behind where Adam's standing and the dark haired man who threw it open is leaning on the doorknob quite heavily as he tries to catch his breath. "I'm so sorry Ads, the blue line was late and I may have gotten lost on the way here and I left my phone on the table- " The man- Dean assumes he's Adam's elusive roommate who broke his mug- is attractive. Like, really hot. The very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He's got curly black hair that's wild around his face and brown doe eyes that give him an air of innocence. Dean wants to run his fingers through those curls and find out how it feels to have those lips pressed against his, if he's totally honest. 

It's a sentiment Adam does not seem to share. "It's fine, it's fine Aidan, you're here now! Just get your ass out of those jeans and put this on!" Adam thrusts a bathrobe at the roommate- Aidan- from seemingly nowhere and pushes him back out the door towards the bathroom. 

He turns back around to face the class, clapping his hands together and looking as relieved as Dean has ever seen him. "Well then, as we wait for our model, does anyone need any help getting set up?" 

~*~  
When Aidan returns from the men's room, he's wrapped in the fluffy bathrobe Adam gave him and is cradling his clothes in a ball to his chest. He dumps the ball of clothes onto Adam's desk and gives the instructor a smirk. "What now?" 

Adam looks up at him from where he's seated behind his desk. "Now you get naked," he says bluntly, obviously trying not to smile. The instructor would normally be doing anything in his power to make models feel comfortable, especially first timers, but Dean supposes being friends, like these two obviously are, makes these kinds of things easier.

Still, Aidan's smile falters a little as he makes his way to the center of the room. He's nervous, understandably, and when Dean looks to his right, he can see Adam mouthing encouragements at his friend and giving a thumbs up. 

Standing on the raised circle of floor in the middle of the circle of easels, Aidan gestures at his robe. "Shall I...?" 

Adam smiles at him kindly. "Whenever you're ready Aid."

The model shrugs and sheds the robe preserving his modesty and Dean's mouth goes dry because it has got to be fucking illegal to have a body like that. Tanned skin is covered with a dusting of dark hair, well, everywhere. Dean had been expecting Aidan's limbs to be skinny and gangly from the way the robe engulfed him, but no, those are definitely muscles playing under olive skin. And those legs- Dean could climb those legs for days without ever reaching an end and damn if that doesn't make him want to do just that. When Dean's gaze falls upon the apex of Aidan's thighs, he's sure the temperature in the room has risen because even limp and dangling between his (incredibly toned) thighs, the models cock is beautiful. It must be gorgeous when it's hard, Dean finds himself thinking and mentally slaps himself because this model has somehow strummed up enough courage to stand naked in front of a room of thirty-odd strangers, and this is how Dean repays him? By thinking about how good those lips would look wrapped around his own cock? (Fantastic, but that's beside the point.) He's here to learn how to draw the human body, not fantasize about a man who frankly is way out of his league. 

Dean is trying not to appear too affected, honest to god thinking-of-Grandma-naked trying, but he can't help fidgeting a bit in his seat to make room for his half hard cock. It's not helping that he can't rip his eyes away from their journey up and down the long lines of Aidan's body, that he doesn't have to. This isn't a hot guy he saw walking down the street that he can only steal a few glances of lest he get caught, this is someone who's willingly bared their body expecting their most private places to be ogled, who's expecting Dean to do the ogling. The artist shudders and picks up his pencil.

Dean starts with a rough sketch of Aidan's torso. It's enough to rid himself of the tension he hadn't realized was in his arms and to get him to focus on the lines and shapes of his drawling, not the subject. It’s not always so easy to crush the more primal part of his brain though; when the model changes his pose at Adam's direction to extend a leg behind him, the muscles in his ass clench in the most tantalizing way. Dean’s pencil tip breaks with the force he’s using to press it into the paper.

Before he knows it, an hour and a half and a dozen poses have passed and there are countless pencil sketches of Aidan covering his paper entirely. He’s quite proud of some of them, actually, especially the full body sketch of the model in which he managed to capture the grace in Aidan's long limbs. 

Adam has just called for a break, which Dean suspects is mostly for Aidan's benefit as he's begun to fidget quite a bit. Adam's called the model out on tapping his fingers against his knee three times now and the lengths of time Aidan manages to refrain before starting up again are getting shorter and shorter. Not that Dean can blame him- it must be tedious holding the same pose for so long and Dean himself knows the feeling of needing to do something with your hands at all times only too well. When Adam announces the break, Aidan smiles at the instructor gratefully and pulls the bathrobe back on again, tying the sash loosely around his waist. 

Adam's been flitting around the room all class, pointing out faults and particularly good points in people's drawings when he's not giving Aidan instructions on how to stand. He's stopped by Dean several times, sometimes nodding in approval and sometimes giving tips on how to make the drawings look more natural. Now that's he's not bound to statue-like stillness by Adam's watchful glare (Dean gets the impression his art teacher is not someone you want to anger), Aidan has joined the instructor in taking peeks at the class's work over the students' shoulders. 

Which is why Dean probably shouldn't have been surprised when he hears "Mate, these are all kinds of amazing," directly over his shoulder. It's spoken in a lilting Irish accent that should have been soothing but instead causes Dean to jump about three feet into the air. He whips his head around at a speed that quite likely put him at danger for whiplash to see Aidan leaning down so he can see all the individual sketches spread across four pages of Dean's sketchbook. 

Dean has to clear his throat before he speaks.

"Do you really think so?" It comes out calmly if not a little hoarsely.

Aidan's eyes are wide as he nods earnestly and says "I'm no expert, but these are good, like really good! Aidan Turner by the way.” He sticks his hand out to shake Dean’s.

“Dean O’Gorman.” Dean smiles in what he hopes is an encouraging way as he returns the handshake. 

“Well, Dean O’Gorman, I was under the impression that this was a class for beginners. Are you sure you're not a professional?"

Dean shrugs, fighting to keep down the blush that's threatening to rise. "Well, my dad is, a professional I mean, so I may have picked up a few tricks from him."

"For real? I didn't know talent was hereditary."

"Not sure about the heredity thing, I think it may have more to do with the fact that whenever I got on his nerves too much as a kid he would sit me down in his studio and make me draw to calm down."

Aidan laughs at this, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You must have been a right little terror to have gotten this good." 

"I'll have you know I was an absolute angel!" Dean puts on a mock affronted look, hoping to pull another of those smiles out of Aidan. 

Aidan giggles, a sound Dean never thought would come out of that body but sounds surprisingly right. God, he's a sappy little bastard, isn't he?

"Should I be worried about the 'was'? I mean, if you're only a former angel then maybe I should put on more clothes." 

"Well, we wouldn't want that would we," Dean barely manages to choke out because holy fucking shit he's flirting with a hot guy who's not wearing any underwear and who's just reminded him of that fact.

A smile is spreading across Aidan's face at the other man's tone. Dean narrows his eyes at him. "Stop laughing at me! You're really fucking hot and I can't help making an idiot of myself!" There, he's come right out and said that he's attracted to the other man. It may have been in the same breath as calling himself an idiot, but hopefully Aidan can look past some of his word vomit. 

"I wasn't laughing at you, promise! But to make up for any, um, misunderstanding there might have been, I kind of feel morally obligated to ask you to dinner..." 

Smooth bastard. 

Aidan is biting his lip and obviously trying not to look too hopeful as he rocks on the balls of his feet waiting for an answer. 

"Well, I was terribly offended, but if you really feel the need to make it up to me I guess we might be able to work something out."

Aidan's staring at him, his smile so blinding Dean has to look somewhere else, anywhere else, finally settling on Aidan's right ear.

"Excellent!" The Irishman exclaims and claps Dean on the shoulder, his hand lingering longer than perhaps necessary. 

Dean thinks about his fridge at home, empty except for some leftover lasagna from Thursday. "Hey, would it be alright if I took you up on that dinner tonight? It's totally fine if it's too short notice or..." He trails off, and looks at Aidan for an answer.

Aidan rubs his jaw. "No, that would be great actually! It saves me from a lecture à la Adam for being so late," he whispers the last part to Dean conspiratorially and winks, checking to see that the man in question is still on the other side of the room. "I get a date with a hot guy too, so that's a bonus!" 

Dean is definitely blushing now. He usually takes pride in not much fazing him, but Aidan is throwing him for a loop. "Erm...meet me at six? I know a pizza place that's to die for, if that's alright with you." And there's his groove back. 

Aidan smiles even wider, something Dean had thought must be surely past the boundaries of mere human mouths. "I thought for sure you'd be taking me to some hoity-toit underground place where you have to pay for water. Believe me, pizza is more than alright." 

"I feel like I should be offended by that somehow," Dean says, but he's smiling.

"Nothing wrong with that, it's what Adam does whenever I let him pick where we eat out, and we still get along okay! It just seems like an artist-type thing to do." 

“Who says artist types can’t like pizza? It’s a dietary staple!” Dean grins. 

Aidan laughs at that, throwing his head back. “I think we’ll get along just fine, Dean O’Gorman.”


	2. fortissimo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws chapter at you* PORN. ITS PORN

nine months later

It all starts with a Sunday afternoon make out session on the couch. Aidan has just started getting handsy and Dean, knowing where this is leading, suggests they move to the bedroom. 

They get there only after a slight detour in the hallway in which Dean had crowded Aidan up against the wall to kiss his breath away, but they do make it to the actual bedroom, which is more than can be said for previous… encounters. 

Once in the bedroom, Aidan pushes Dean down onto the bed, pinning the blonds arms above his head and clamoring up onto the bed to straddle Dean's hips. Once he's up there, Aidan doesn't make any move to push forward, or any move at all actually, staring down at Dean with a grin. "What?" Dean asks, starting to squirm slightly under the scrutiny. 

"You're really hot," Aidan says breathily before he leans down to kiss Dean hard. His hands release their grip on the older man’s arms and go down to fist the front of Dean's tee shirt. 

“I want this off,” the younger man breaks away from the kiss to demand as he tugs at the material. Dean is only too quick to comply, pushing Aidan away so that he can sit up with Aidan straddling his lap and help the other man where his fingers are scrabbling in his shirt trying to pull it off. As Dean pulls the shirt over his head, Aidan pounces, splaying his hands over the older man’s exposed chest to run his fingers through blond chest hair. His long fingers brush against dusky nipples and tease them to hardness. Although Aidan has seen Dean’s naked chest countless times before, he can’t seems to tear his eyes or wandering hands away from the exposed flesh, and Dean can’t say that he minds indulging Aidan’s fascination. 

At all. 

But at the same time, he’d rather not be deprived of Aidan’s nakedness. He begins to undo the buttons on Aidan’s flannel shirt, a long and arduous process because it’s Aidan’s favorite shirt. The last time Dean had attempted to take it of in erm...the throes of passion, he had nearly popped off one of the buttons and Aidan has threatened to make him pay the postage to ship it back to Ireland so his mum could sew it right again. 

“For fucks sake- Aidan, could you not have picked an easier shirt to take off?” Aidan laughs at that as if he’s joking. 

“If you rip any of the buttons don’t even think about getting any for, like, a week. At least.” Did he mention it’s Aidan’s favorite shirt? Such a diva. 

“You like this shirt more than me”

“Well…” 

Aidan yelps as Dean pops him on the back of the thigh before sliding Aidan’s top over his shoulders and throwing it off in the general direction of the hamper. Aidan is still straddling the blond’s lap, now topless and with that look in his eye that promises good things to come. 

“I think,” Aidan licks his lips, “you should fuck me now.”

Dean pecks him on the lips. “Your wish is my command," he says huskily, looking directly into Aidan's wide eyes. He quickly shucks off his jeans and boxers, dropping them off the side of the bed. Aidan’s eyes are glued to his hard cock, his expression hungry. His brown eyes flick up to Dean’s face, challenging him silently. 

Dean flips them over together so that he's on top of Aidan between the brunet's spread legs and catches Aidan's lips with his as he unzips the other man's pants to reach inside to grip the other's cock through his boxers. Aidan whimpers beneath him at the contact, and again as Dean pulls his hand away so that he can pull Aidan's jeans off his slim hips completely. The blond slides down the length of the darker's body, taking the other's pants and underwear with him as he goes down to gradually expose Aidan in all his glory. Tossing the jeans off the side of the bed to land where they may, Dean looks up at Aidan's face. Dark eyes stare back at him as Aidan's tongue peeks out of his mouth to wet his lips. 

"Please..." Aidan's voice is already hoarse with want. Dean prides himself on his ability to reduce his lover to this trembling mess without even touching him. He brushes his boyfriends sweaty curls back from his forehead and presses their lips together in a sweet kiss. 

"Anything you want baby."

Dean slowly pushes Aidan's legs up so that his knees are brushing his chest. He's so goddamn bendy, and the idea of what they can do with that goes straight to Dean's cock. His breath catches in his throat, taken aback by the intimacy of the position, by the fact that all of Aidan is bared to him and the younger is still looking up at him with such an expression of such trust. Dean can't help but lean down again so he can mouth at Aidan's earlobe and whisper "I should draw you like this. Would you like that, I wonder, spreading yourself just for me and my pencil?" 

Aidan is nodding desperately as his cock twitches against where it’s lying on his abs. "Anything Dean, please!" They've barely just gotten into bed and Aidan is already begging for it. 

"Not today, baby. Today, I just wanna feel you." Dean lets one of his hands wander down the length of Aidan's body, tweaking a nipple and following the trail of hair down, down, bypassing the turgid cock that's just begging for contact until a finger is circling the rim of Aidan's dry hole. He reaches under the pillow with one hand for the bottle of the Liquid Silk he knows he'll find and pops the top open with his thumb, shooting Aidan a heated look as he slicks his fingers. Dean smiles as his lover gulps in anticipation. 

Aidan surges up to kiss Dean, threading his fingers through blond curls and yanking, just the way he knows Dean likes. Dean lets out an embarrassing squeak of surprise and he can feel Aidan laughing into the kiss, the little shit. 

In retaliation, the older man presses one slicked finger into the younger without warning. Aidan pulls away from the kiss with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes wide at the stretch. The shock in his expression gradually morphs into pleasure as Dean begins thrusting his finger, eyes half shut and mouth open and panting. 

"Another!" Aidan gasps out as his hips move against the finger up his ass seemingly of their own accord. All Dean can do is follow his orders, and slides another finger into the tight heat. He's scissoring his fingers now along with thrusting them like he knows Aidan loves and Aidan is letting out little huffing breaths in time with the fingers pumping in and out of his ass. 

As Dean ups the count to three, then four just to drive Aidan crazy, the man beneath him is writhing and glaring up at Dean for denying him his cock. 

Dean twists his fingers inside of Aidan and nuzzles the dip of his hipbone. "What do you want, baby?"

Despite himself, Aidan snorts. "That's a stupid question and you know it."

"Maybe, but humor me."

Aidan's eyes go even darker as he pants and looks down at Dean. "I want you to fuck me, asshole." 

Dean almost comes on the spot. 

He manages one last jab at Aidan's prostate before he pulls his fingers free of Aidan's fluttering hole and reaches over to the nightstand to grope for a condom. Aidan is growling, legitimately growling, for Dean to hurry the hell up, and who is Dean to deny Aidan anything, especially when he asks like that? He tears the condom open with his teeth, rolls it on as fast as he can, and slicks his latex covered cock with the remaining lube on his hand. The blond lowers himself so that he’s hovering over Aidan, his weight supported by one hand planted next to the dark head of curls. Dean pumps his erection a few times, just to take the edge off before lining up with Aidan’s waiting entrance.The younger man is trying to push back on Dean's cock to impale himself, but he can't get any leverage from the position he's in. Dean chuckles as Aidan groans in frustration and looks up at him pleadingly, until he finally takes pity on the Irishman and slowly eases the blunt head of his cock into the waiting hole.

"Look at you," Dean says reverently as he looks down on Aidan. "Absolutely gagging for it." 

Once he pushes past the initial resistance the tight hole offers, Aidan opens up so beautifully beneath him. As Dean continues to sink home, blue eyes lock on watery brown as Aidan offers up a tender smile accompanied by a wince or two at the burn of being stretched. Finally (finally!) when Dean’s balls brush the swell of his lover’s ass, the darker's long legs wrap around Dean's hips in a death grip as they both revel in the feeling of being connected so intimately. Aidan pulls Dean down for a sloppy kiss that goes on until the brunet is used to the stretch of being penetrated and the blond has enough confidence in his ability to not come in seconds flat. 

When they pull back, Aidan dazedly smiles up at Dean, eyes half closed. “You can move now,” he whispers, and digs his heel into the back of the blond’s thigh to get his point across. Dean is only too happy to comply, and digs his knees into the bed to get enough leverage to push back into Aidan’s tight heat. His first thrust is almost excruciatingly slow, to get that outraged expression on Aidan’s face but mostly to make it sink home that Dean is the one in charge here, that even if Aidan wanted to, his position would make it impossible for him to control their pace. With Aidan’s thighs spread and his legs wrapped around Dean’s body, all he can do is lie there and take what he’s given. 

Dean doesn’t intend to be cruel all night though; he knows what his boyfriend wants and God knows Dean has a hard time denying Aidan anything, especially a mutually beneficial good pounding. Aidan happens to know this too, and isn’t afraid to take advantage of his knowledge. Already, Aidan is pouting up at Dean through thick lashes and Dean knows he can’t hold out much longer, no matter how delicious watching Aidan struggle may be. 

WIthout warning, Dean slams into his lover, hard enough to hit the headboard of the bed against the wall. He thrusts again and again, alternating between a few hard ones in succession, then gentler movements to angle for Aidan’s prostate. Aidan is practically shouting his approval, as his hands are scrabbling for purchase against Dean’s back and shoulders as Dean continues to pump into him. 

“Oh my GOD, fucking- right there, right there…” Aidan is downright babbling as Dean manages to peg his prostate. “So good, Dean, s’so good…” 

Dean pants out a laugh and reaches to brush sweaty curls away from Aidan’s forehead. “Yeah? You like my cock up your ass? You like me fucking you into the bed?” 

Aidan nods fervently and pulls Dean’s shoulders down for a kiss. It’s sloppy at best, all tongues and teeth, but both are more focused on the slick slide of Dean’s cock in and out of Aidan than on any sort of finesse. 

It’s all starting to become too much for Dean, the clenching of his lover’s tight hole around his cock accompanied by Aidan’s pants and moans, and one look at Aidan shows that he’s in a similar situation. Dean drops one of his hands down to wrap around Aidan’s own dick as he continues thrusting, and his boyfriend lets out an appreciative moan, throwing his head back. “C-close,” Dean manages to stutter out, his rhythm faltering somewhat. 

“S’okay baby, you can come,” Aidan is reaching up to wrap his arms around Dean’s shoulders and rub his hands over the red trails his fingernails left down Dean’s back. 

“Nuh-uh, you first,” Dean grunts out, increasing the pace of both his thrusts and pumps of Aidan’s cock so that it’s a veritable pleasure assault for Aidan. 

Brown eyes shoot wide open and swollen lips form a wide circle. “F-fuck-” Aidan manages to stutter out and then he’s coming, white ropes shooting up to stripe his chest as well as Dean’s.

Dean’s positively milking his boyfriend’s orgasm for all it’s worth and Aidan is shuddering with his whole body as the last spurts of come are wrung from his spent dick. Dean can tell that the afterglow is starting to give over to oversensitivity as he continues pumping into Aidan, and that’s when he finally allows himself to come, burying himself deep in his lover as he does so. 

His orgasm is strong enough to make his arms weak, and Dean collapses onto Aidan’s chest. He lies there with his face buried in between his boyfriend’s pecs, content to just enjoy the floating sensation. Only when the stickiness on both their stomachs becomes uncomfortable and Dean’s cock has softened enough to slip out of Aidan do either make any move to get up, or move in any way, really. 

Dean pulls out of Aidan, holding onto the base of the condom, and ties it off. He gets off the bed and drops it into the trash, leaving Aidan blissed out as Dean goes in search of a washcloth to clean them up with. 

“Y’take such good care of me,” Aidan mumbles as Dean wipes the last traces of his release away, his dark eyes full of such unrestrained love that Dean feels a swooping in the pit of his stomach. 

“Someone has to,” Dean smirks and presses a kiss to Aidan’s brow, earning himself one of those beatific smiles.

~*~  
After calling out for pizza and dinner in bed, Dean is spread out next to Aidan in the dark, chatting about nothing. Dean looks over at his boyfriend. "D'you remember when we first met?" 

There's a moment of silence before Aidan cackles loudly from the other side of the bed. "You were painfully awkward! Remember, you yelled at me for being 'fucking hot' when I tried to talk to you? Oh god, I'd forgotten!"

Dean reached over to smack him on the chest. "I'd just been staring at your dick for over an hour, of course I was fucking awkward when you decided to flirt with me!"

Aidan is still laughing, though now it's become more wheezing than cackling.

Dean looks at him despairingly. "God, I try to start some romantic pillow talk with my boyfriend and this is what I get." He sighs dramatically but the effect is somewhat negated by the fond smile on his face. 

"Awwwww Deano!" Aidan coos, face still split in a wide smile. "Need a cuddle?" He gestures to his own chest. "C'mere, I'll chase away the embarrassing memories."

"Fucking dork," Dean mutters as he curls into Aidan's warm chest. 

"The fucking dork you love," Aidan whispers triumphantly into Dean's ear. Dean can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is the same as my ao3 username so feel free to hit me up!


End file.
